So, when I first set out to play GTA Online, I figured I'd try to play something like a cross between the Driver, Ryan Gosling's character in Drive and Rusty Ryan, Brad Pitt's character in the Ocean's movies. About 30 minutes in, I realized this wouldn't work too well, as the amount of random killing was far higher than either of those two would've gone for, so I settled on something between Chris, Kilmer's character in Heat and Mr. White, Keitel's character from Reservoir Dogs. Not gonna start much shit, but I'll light a bitch up if I have to.

My first real job is to repo a few cars for some Armenian douchebag named Simeon. What he didn't tell me was that the second I hopped into the cars, the cops would be on my ass. So I've got the local yokels trying to rear-end me into the nearest divider for about thirty seconds before deciding, "fuck it, let's just shoot him." Nice job, LSPD. No wonder that SWAT guy went apeshit. Easy said it best, Fuck tha Police. Five minutes, a few dozen bulletholes and the loss of a bumper later, I manage to pull the car into Simeon's dealership. I get my cash and get the hell out of dodge.

As I'm walking back to my car, some fuckhole decides to veer out of his way and try to run me over. He misses. I make it to my car, T-Bone him as he's trying to untangle himself from the wall he's run to and give him a 9mm howdy through the windshield. Of course, the police happen to be driving by when this goes down, so suddenly, I'm public enemy number one. I flip a bitch and drive like hell to get away from the 5-0. After hiding under an underpass for a while, the heat fades and I move out to find my next job. Lamar put me in touch with Gerald who wants me to rob some more drug dealers. I'm going to run this one alone so that I don't get run over by my wheelman again.

Before I start the mission though, I figure I'll go to the gunshop and upgrade my gear. As I'm walking out of the shop, I take a face full of buckshot. Someone saw my car and waited for me to come out.

Fucker.

Tuned in, immediately get to watch cringey Ubisoft talking head offering her deepest sympathies to the families impacted by the Orlando shooting while flanked by a man in a giraffe suit and some sort of "horrifically garish neon costumes through the ages" exhibit or something. We need to stop this fucking planet right now and sort some shit out. -Kail

After getting shotgunned in the grill, I come back a couple of blocks from the gun shop and my car. I start the run back and see that Buckshot McFuckface is still lingering, probably hoping to get another easy kill. In the realm of the gunfighter, SMG beats sawed-off almost every time. Including this one. Buckshot goes down like his mom at a biker rally and I head for my car to drive off into the sunset.

Only my car's not there. I look at my map and it's circling around about three blocks away. Back in the direction I came from. I get a notification that buckshot is dead again. This time by someone else. As I get to my car, I see that someone else is the person driving it. He tries to run me over and plows into incoming traffic, trapping himself in between a truck and another car. He takes a few token shots at me and then SMG wins again. I pull the shirtless shitheel from behind the wheel and blow that taco stand. I manage to sideswipe buckshot one more time on the way out for the bonus kill and then I head out of town.

I really need to turn on that no assholes in my car feature.

Tuned in, immediately get to watch cringey Ubisoft talking head offering her deepest sympathies to the families impacted by the Orlando shooting while flanked by a man in a giraffe suit and some sort of "horrifically garish neon costumes through the ages" exhibit or something. We need to stop this fucking planet right now and sort some shit out. -Kail

As i have made my way through the streets of Los Santos, I've gained a modicum of respect from the criminal element of this shit town. I get a call from some deviant named Lester. He wants me to swing by his house so we can talk about the waves I've been making in the underworld. I get to his rat hole of a place and am blown away. It's like Hoarders and Hackers had a kid in a wheelchair. Lester waxes poetic about the values of investing in real estate and other solid financial bulwarks and then, as I'm leaving, he tells me he can get a hit put on someone for the right price.

Good to know.

Of course, my first experience with the whole hit thing is when I steal a random car in the middle of running an errand for Simeon. Apparently, the citizens of Los Santos can put a hit on you if you steal their car. Who the fuck knew? Roughly five minutes after getting an anonymous message that I'm gonna get smoked for jacking someone's whip, some plucky fucker comes up and pops me with his pistol before I have a chance to get out of the car and return fire. Well, now I've got my first hit target. I put a $4000 hit on my recent assailant, Lester's gonna keep a grand of that. Nice work if you can get it. Of course, Dawg the Bounty Hunter decides he's not gonna take a price on his head laying down and he comes after me. He's dead before he gets a shot off and I collect my own 3k back.

I wonder if I can put a hit on Lester...

My tangles with Dawg apparently aren't over. He comes after me twice more and I end him both times with the quickness. He respawns again near me and proceeds to pursue me again. Apparently, he's bored. Or psychotic. or both. I spy a helipad with an un-guarded helo just sitting there. I hop out of the car and grab the chopper as Dawg takes a few pot shots and misses. This chopper handles a helluva lot better than the Hueys in the 'Chrun that's for goddamn sure. I keep an eye on Dawg as I pilot the chopper to a nearby rooftop and break out my newly acquired sniper rifle. Dawg bites the bullet again. And again, as he spawned nearby one more time and made a beeline toward me popping his pistol in impotent fury.

Definitley psychotic.

I hop off the server and start somewhere else just because I've got better shit to do than kill this moron over and over.

I pop back in at my garage and choose my car, crank up the Queen. All we hear is Radio Ga Ga. Like I said at the beginning of this entry, I've gained some respect in the criminal underworld here and I've also made enough cash to pimp my ride, as it were. I've up-armored the car and improved the engine, brakes and transmission. These all come in handy because even though I've gained the respect of the criminal element, there's still the Dawgs and Douchebag420s out there.

Oh yeah, I haven't gotten to Douchebag420 yet. Here goes.

I'm driving around waiting for a call from Lester or Trevor (complete fucknut, that guy. Last I saw him, he wanted me to run an errand because he was out of toilet paper.) or any of the other low-lifes that are now on my speed dial list. As I'm driving, I see someone else driving in the opposite direction suddenly flip a bitch as he passes me. Something something 420 is his name. We'll call him Douchebag.

I hear the ping-ping of bullets hitting my armored trunk. Fire away, shithead. I've got a solid ride and I'm probably a better driver. I prove this as I speed up and weave through oncoming traffic. The sound of bullets bouncing off my trunk is replaced by the sound of Douchebag420's car crunching into the cars coming in his direction. Fucking idiot. I swing back into the proper lane and continue my drive north toward the trailer parks of San Andreas' version of the central valley, complete with fog. As Queen transitions to the Doobie Brothers, I hear more bullets. Douchebag is back. Apparently this fool believes he can win this fight that I'm not even taking part in. Get it? Doobie Brothers? What a Fool Believes?

What the fuck is wrong with these people?

I speed up, he tries to keep up, shooting the whole time. The shooting attracts the attention of the highway patrol and they proceed to close in and ram the shit out of him for the 30 seconds it takes before they decide to open fire on his as well. Undaunted, he continues to shoot at me. I'll give this idiot one thing, he's persistent. Stupid, but persistent. I speed up enough to make him work for it a little more and he tries to keep up. His car is taking a beating at this point from the combination of gunfire and police car ramming. I'm keeping an eye on this and waiting for a certain sign. His front and rear bumpers are gone, so's one of his doors. all of his tires are blown, he's about done. Just needs One. More. Thing...

I slam on my brakes abruptly enough that he slams to my trunk, the telltale flames under his hood tell me all I need to know, his car is done. I drive slowly away as the SAHP close in and finish the job. He and his car go up in ball of flames. "Douchebag420 has died"

Good night sweet prince.

« Last Edit: October 21, 2013, 04:52:22 PM by Surlyboi »

Tuned in, immediately get to watch cringey Ubisoft talking head offering her deepest sympathies to the families impacted by the Orlando shooting while flanked by a man in a giraffe suit and some sort of "horrifically garish neon costumes through the ages" exhibit or something. We need to stop this fucking planet right now and sort some shit out. -Kail

Trevor wants me to hold down an airplane graveyard from some fucking rednecks until he can send backup. Simple enough, right?

Fuck that shit. These rednecks apparently have air support in the form of Hughes 500Ds and goddamn miniguns. Thankfully, I roped some random assholes in to help me.

One of those assholes was a woman named "Bunny550" or something along those lines. As it turns out, "Bunnybadass" would've worked too, as after 10 waves of over-armed hillbillies the two of us were the only ones that managed to come through the whole ordeal unscathed. The judicious use of remote-detonated C4 on my part did help a bit though. Monster trucks can get some pretty good air under the right circumstances.

Anyway, after our ordeal was done, we all spread to the four winds, Bunny and I heading back to downtown Los Santos and the other guys going their own ways. No sooner are we near downtown than I see Bunny get taken out by some random fuckhole that decided she was an the easier target than I was. Ten seconds later, I'm driving over his corpse. Ten seconds after that, I'm putting a 10k bounty on his head.

I collect the bounty myself and then put another 10k on his head. Bunny takes the 9k of that one and then I put another 10k. Rinse and repeat until he logs off.

I spent 100k all told and about six people other than me and Bunny got turns making him thier bitch. After the fifth bounty, he put a 1k bounty on me which amounted to three other casualties as people tried to take me out. It was kinda like giving a crackhead my picture and five bucks, it brought the bottom-barrel monkeys. Eventually, I'll probably get got, but not today.

Today was a good day.

Tuned in, immediately get to watch cringey Ubisoft talking head offering her deepest sympathies to the families impacted by the Orlando shooting while flanked by a man in a giraffe suit and some sort of "horrifically garish neon costumes through the ages" exhibit or something. We need to stop this fucking planet right now and sort some shit out. -Kail

A few weeks in and I'm now at the top of my game, as it were. I've made enough cash surviving onslaughts of hillbillies, corrupt cops and private military contractors that I've been able to buy a few nice cars, a motorcycle and a Dee-luxe apartment in the sky-hi-hi.

Movin' on up.

That doesn't mean I haven't had to deal with idiots along the way however. But you already knew that.

The easiest way to make quick cash in Los Santos and Blaine County is to find a competent crew and run a survival mission. In 20 minutes, you can net 20k each. Of course, this being Los Santos, competent crews are sometimes few and far between. You can always tell if a mission is going to go sideways within the first minute or so. My strategy works thusly, find the most defensible spot you can, hunker down and let the assholes come to you. This tends to work pretty well, especially if the rest of your squad does the same and covers your potential blind spots while letting you cover theirs.

But like I said, this is Los Santos.

I found myself on a team with a guy with a leetspeak version of "anal rampage" as his nom de guerre. Yeah, it's gonna be that kind of party. So, like I was saying earlier, the signs that a survival mission is gonna go to shit are evident pretty soon. The not hunkering down and instead running around like it's a goddamn deathmatch is the first clue someone's gonna eat it early. Ol' buttboy is on a mission and it's obviously not this one. The shooting starts and he's done in one. The rest of the team does an ok job of holding their own, but none of them is near my position and they've all got blind spots.

As the mission progresses and the waves get more gnarly, the other guys start to fall more quickly, or worse, panic and blow my traps early, sometimes killing themselves in the process. Fucking ameteurs. After about getting to the halfway point and spectating on me saving all out collective asses from an early exit yet again, suddenly, they're all rushing for my holdout spot, forcing me to find another one. Luckily on most of the survival maps, I've found a few such places to hole up. So when they all still manage to fuck up holding out, I still have to bail them all out. At least this time they didn't fuck up my traps.

There's something special about a van you've placed a brick of C4 on blowing up at just the right angle to hit an incoming suburban and make it flip end-over-end and kill the entire group of hostiles that rolled in in front of it.

I've found I get one of two responses after running the proverbial table in survival. Friend requests or bounties. Some chucklefucks can't handle being bettered, even in missions that are supposed to be team-based and co-op. Fuck 'em if they don't know how to play.

Anyway, the group disbands, I hop in my car and head for a garage to buy a few upgrades for my latest car, a DB9 knockoff. As I'm pulling in to the garage, I notice someone else making a beeline for me. He manages to ram me and open fire before I get fully into the garage. That's gonna cost me an extra 500 bucks to fix. Thanks, dipshit. As I'm looking through customizations, I see the garage gate opening and closing over and over. Dickcheese is waitng for me to come back out.

I make only one modification and then head out. The fire starts as soon as I start to exit. I gun the engine and lock bumpers with him and then detonate the explosives I had rigged to the car, taking us both out.

Fuck you, shitheel. I'm insured.

« Last Edit: November 01, 2013, 10:48:46 PM by Surlyboi »

Tuned in, immediately get to watch cringey Ubisoft talking head offering her deepest sympathies to the families impacted by the Orlando shooting while flanked by a man in a giraffe suit and some sort of "horrifically garish neon costumes through the ages" exhibit or something. We need to stop this fucking planet right now and sort some shit out. -Kail

I check my bank account, after the recent "Stimulus Package" that rewards people who have played from the beginning for putting up with the server rollbacks and other assorted and sundry bullshit that came with the growing pains of launch, a paltry 500k added to my current account leaves me with a cool 5 and a half mil.

I'm rich, bitches.

I've already scored the badass apartment at the edge of the Vinewood hills. (Yeah, fuck you Rockstar for not letting me buy a place in the hills proper or on the beach.) and a stable of cars that would make the guys at Top Gear shit themselves, I need to find other shit to buy. Attack helicopter and speedboat? why the fuck not?

So, in the fullness of fucking time, I find myself still being contacted by the shitheels of Los Santos to get shit done. Art apparently imitates life or some such. Some random shitheel lawyer has me popping his enemies on demand, in addition to the other lowlifes that get me stealing cars and ripping off drug dealers. Seriously, I need to tell all these assholes to take the fucking piss.

Instead, I take a call from Simeon and decide to humor his dumb ass and steal a Chrysler. This, of course, gets a bounty on my head. A mere grand, but this IS Los Santos and the crumbsnatchers are out in force. To avoid having to deal with them all at once, I hop into a few survival matches to up my cash flow and, more importantly, score a few weapons above my proverbial pay grade.

One of those weapons is a fucking minigun. This will be important later.

So, I get out of my latest survival run, successful and a shitload of rednecks later. (One of them seriously said, "I think somebody had too much incest last night.", I nearly lost my shit.) I hop into my Veyron knockoff and head back into downtown Los Santos. I get a couple of bottom feeders chasing me all the way in, the armor upgrades basically making their attempts to shoot me fruitless. I get to the helipad near the marina, hop in my attack chopper and blow the bastards off the face of the earth before flying to a nearby rooftop to wait out the time on my bounty. I'm pretty sure the jackasses chasing down a thousand dollar bounty weren't expecting their mark to have an Annihilator, but well fuck them.

While camping out on the roof, I break out the sniper rifle and wait. Anyone that lurks around the base of my building for a little too long gets dropped. You're mildly interested? You stop for a few seconds and then move on. You're there for more than a minute? You're looking for an angle. Fuck you, I'm putting some .50 in your fucking brainpan.

Who the fuck knew a couple of assholes with a chopper would come calling?

Well, I sorta did, which was why I ran a few survival missions before finding a place to camp. Miniguns? Yeah, they eat choppers for breakfast. The two assholes in the chopper swing around just expecting easy prey. Nah, I've done enough survival runs at this point. Choppers are easy, much to their probable chagrin. Their unarmed helicopter crumples like tin foil under the withering fire of my purloined minigun and they eat shit like everyone else.

About an hour later, I get a grand added to my account and an achievement telling me I've survived a day with a bounty on my head.

I'm glad all the hardcores have moved to CoD Ghosts and BF4. This shit just gets easier.

Here's a quick and dirty of my garage a few days ago...

« Last Edit: November 14, 2013, 09:48:53 PM by Surlyboi »

Tuned in, immediately get to watch cringey Ubisoft talking head offering her deepest sympathies to the families impacted by the Orlando shooting while flanked by a man in a giraffe suit and some sort of "horrifically garish neon costumes through the ages" exhibit or something. We need to stop this fucking planet right now and sort some shit out. -Kail

As I've now made enough money to become fairly picky about the laws I break, I've decided I will only take jobs that I feel will move me. Yes, I've moved to Vinewood, crawled up my own ass and become a snob and a sellout.

I think there's a movie star parallel in there somewhere...

Anyway, at this point, I only take calls from three people:

Trevor, because he amuses me, even if he does have a (literally) shitty habit of being on the toilet whenever I finish a job for him.

Martin, because his jobs generally involve taking out dirty officials and cops. Of course, Martin's probably dirtier than all of them combined, but since offing him is not an option yet, I'll do what I can.

Lester, because I kinda feel sorry for the creepy fucker.

I've been ducking calls from Gerald because ganking dealers is so passe.

Anyway, Martin throws me a job that involves stealing a tanker truck and driving it out to a safehouse in Blaine County. Easy enough, right?

Yeah, not so easy. I start the job in my bulletproof supercar, while another douchebag who chose to hop in on the job rolls out on a Ducati. We get to the truck, take out the small crew of military contractors guarding it and biker dude is up and in the truck and speeding off to the safehouse before I can hop in. Fuckin' amateurs.

Of course, the small contingent of jackholes guarding the truck wasn't the only group. As soon as the truck's really starting to pick up speed, it gets waylaid by four suburbans full of determined perpetrators. Biker dude does what he can to shake them but, like the Kings of Leon, he takes one in the temple and he's done.

I had the presence of mind to find a convenient hill nearby and break out the .50. I get to work on the suburbanites and a few minutes later, most of them are dead. I switch to the M4 and head in to clean up the stragglers.

"I'm a fuckin' marine!", one shouts.

No bitch, you were a fuckin' marine, now you're a Jackson Pollock on the door of an SUV.

I take out his other buddy that's struggling to get up by running him over with the newly commandeered truck and proceed to the safehouse.

At the end of the job, for which I only got about 8k, I throw biker dude another 10k and tell him to slow his roll and wait for backup before thinking he can gun his way through on his own.

Tuned in, immediately get to watch cringey Ubisoft talking head offering her deepest sympathies to the families impacted by the Orlando shooting while flanked by a man in a giraffe suit and some sort of "horrifically garish neon costumes through the ages" exhibit or something. We need to stop this fucking planet right now and sort some shit out. -Kail

Tuned in, immediately get to watch cringey Ubisoft talking head offering her deepest sympathies to the families impacted by the Orlando shooting while flanked by a man in a giraffe suit and some sort of "horrifically garish neon costumes through the ages" exhibit or something. We need to stop this fucking planet right now and sort some shit out. -Kail

The Business update and then the High Life update got me back to playing this. At least so that I could see the new apartments and cars.

I immediately bought a new place with a supposed "View of the beach" Yeah, fuck that. It's a nice enough space, but the view of the beach is blocked mostly by the condo in front of me. Not to mention I'm still about six or seven blocks from the fucking beach. Still no houses in the hills either. Big fail on the real estate front.

The car scene however, has gotten better. I've picked up an electric sports car and an Aventador lookalike. Both their own forms of badass.

Anyway, there are a bunch of new survival missions, including one on the pier. It's a bit of bitch, as there aren't a whole lot of places to hole up. Still doable if you can find someone to cover your ass. The first time I managed to make it through to the end was partnered with a guy dressed like a cross between the Joker and the Mad Hatter. Sadly, he had a shitty name like "ucantseeme" or something along those lines. Regardless, he held it down when the two other jackasses we started with couldn't and dropped out at about the third wave of attackers when the first set of choppers rolled in and they had nowhere to hide.

That witness is being loaded onto a C-130 on the runway of Fort Zancudo, the local military base. Yeah, fuck you too, Martin. I decide the only way to get this done is to grab my gunship and then call in some PMC backup. I call in for gunship delivery and they set it up at the nearest non-military airfield. As I'm driving to the gunship, I notice that someone's left not one, but two F-16s on the same field.

Time to wreck shit.

I steal an F-16 and fly back to the fort. A strafing run and the C-130's guards are toast. The plane itself manages to get off the field before I can turn back around for my second run. I swing around and make short work of the unarmed C-130. It's then that Martin chooses to tell me that whatever it was the informant knew, he told the DA. The DA who is now speeding along the highway back to Downtown Los Santos. Fuck your dead mom too, Martin. I make a third circle around the airbase and get into a little dogfighting session with the two fighters they've scrambled to try to take me out. Splash two and hit the afterburners toward downtown. I catch sight of the DA on the freeway and attempt a strafing run which takes out his police escort, but he still manages to escape into a tunnel. I drop a police helicopter while trying to re-acquire the DA and nearly slam into a skyscraper. I swerve between two buildings and circle back around. This is easily the most fun mission I've run for this asshole ever. Hmm, maybe I need to do a flyby of his house when I'm done with this and cluster bomb his goofy ass.

First things first, there's still a DA in a Jag that needs to get blown the fuck up. I manage to get him lined up on a clear enough stretch of freeway and that's all she wrote. DA goes bye-bye. I pull a steep climb and then bail, skydiving down to the hills and picking up my payment. A mere 10k. Shit. The hangar fees for the helicopter were almost that much. I really need to find a way to force feed this shitbag some C4.

Tuned in, immediately get to watch cringey Ubisoft talking head offering her deepest sympathies to the families impacted by the Orlando shooting while flanked by a man in a giraffe suit and some sort of "horrifically garish neon costumes through the ages" exhibit or something. We need to stop this fucking planet right now and sort some shit out. -Kail

I'm rolling around the hood when I get a text on my iFruit phone. (Yeah, the irony fucks with me every goddamn time.) Someone's looking for me to hop into a mission with them for Martin to take out a dirty cop and bring the evidence he was holding back to a warehouse somewhere near the docks.

"Why the fuck not?", I ask myself? The guy asking is really new to Los Santos and could probably use the backup. I hop in. This is what I do. I help the young and inexperienced become better so that they hopefully take after me and don't be assholes to each other in the future.

The op is simple, drop the cop and bring the evidence back to the warehouse. I could do this in my sleep.

Strangely, noob and I are spawned really far apart. and me without my tricked out Aventador. What fuckery is this? Undaunted, I steal a Jag sedan wannabe and head toward the mark. On the way there, I get a message that the evidence has been dropped. Good job, noobsauce, you offed the cop and settled probably the hardest part of our job. I get to the scene just as he's hopping into his car. I hop in shotgun and he starts driving toward the drop point. It's about then that we're waylaid by the LSPD. We've dropped one of their own and dirty or not, they've got a hard-on to take out some cop killers. Nooblar's driving is for shit and soon we're bouncing left and right off of other cars on the freeway, all the while getting shot at by the pursuing cops. That bulletproof Aventador would really come in handy right now.

I'm looking for a way to lean out of the car and fire back at the our pursuers, APB style, when I'm suddenly and rather unceremoniously ejected from the vehicle. I tuck and roll and end up in a fighting stance, dropping about six cops while the other guy manages to smash the car into a divider, stopping his forward progress with authority.

"Next time, I'm driving", I think to myself.

I then find myself taking fire from both in front and behind and I go down in a hail of bullets. "Nooblar has ended you", is the message I receive. Followed by a scoreboard informing me this little shit has one point to my none.

Sonofabitch, I really need to read those mission briefs more thoroughly, this has been me vs him the whole fucking time and I've been helping this jackhole.

Gloves come right the fuck off. I cap a couple more cops and hop in their cruiser and go hunting for new guy. I shoot out his tires and he crashes into a guardrail and hops out to shoot at me. Fully specced assault rifle beats the SMG he just earned and I grab the evidence and hop back into the cruiser. He respawns nearby and comes after me again. I hop out and casually kill him a second time. I stand around in oncoming traffic, my purloined police cruiser taking up a lane and half on the freeway and drop three more cars full of cops before he shows up again and I add a few more ounces of lead to his system. I then hop back in the cruiser and start speeding toward the drop off point.

He tries to keep up for about a minute or so before he gives up and drops out of the mission completely.

I'm pretty sure that while he started thinking he'd roll through and run shit, he'll probably think twice before randomly inviting strangers who out level him 10 to one.

Ah, who am I kidding, he probably did that a few more times that same day.

« Last Edit: May 27, 2014, 08:59:03 PM by Surlyboi »

Tuned in, immediately get to watch cringey Ubisoft talking head offering her deepest sympathies to the families impacted by the Orlando shooting while flanked by a man in a giraffe suit and some sort of "horrifically garish neon costumes through the ages" exhibit or something. We need to stop this fucking planet right now and sort some shit out. -Kail